


Undoing The Past

by MorganaNK



Category: Inspector Lynley - All Media Types, Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganaNK/pseuds/MorganaNK
Summary: Barbara and Tommy's working and personal relationships have crumbled, can things ever be put right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Closer](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/315384) by Tango. 



> Property of Elizabeth George and the BBC, no copyright infringement intended
> 
> _This first chapter is short and 'scene setting', please bear with me as the future chapters will be longer_

It was the empty whiskey glass that told me he’d been here.

Again.

I sighed deeply. How much longer was this going to go on? 

Ever since I had resigned he had been letting himself into my flat. I had thought about changing the locks, but I knew it would be a pointless exercise, he’d still find a way to get in.

I understood his behaviour. Hell, I’d known him long enough to be able to read him like a book. But me understanding him didn’t mean that I welcomed his visits.

Oh, who was I trying to kid?

I missed him so much that it was a permanent physical ache that never left me. It was there when I went to sleep, and it was there when I woke. It gnawed away at my soul, leaving me a shadow of the person I had once been.

Every day I regretted what had happened between us, but I couldn’t see any way that we could go back. Emotions had been running high; accusations had been thrown, angry words exchanged, and things were said that couldn’t be taken back. With the disintegration of our relationship, our working partnership had soon followed; there was no possible way for it to survive, and so I had resigned.

His stalking started the same day, and had continued ever since.


	2. Chapter 2

There wasn’t a minute in any day that I didn’t regret what had happened between Barbara and I, that I didn’t wish I could somehow go back in time. The things that I had said, the accusations I had thrown in her face, the pain I had caused her, they were inexcusable. I had been so consumed by my agony that rational thought had abandoned me, and vitriol had spilled from my lips in an uncontrollable torrent.

It had been a stupid knee-jerk reaction, fuelled by pain, exasperation and more than a little alcohol. An attempt to break through her defences and get her to reveal to me what she was thinking and feeling. An attempt that had blown up in my face quite spectacularly and had filled me with nothing but remorse ever since.

I should have known better. I _did_ know better. Barbara had always dealt with things by shutting down, keeping her thoughts, feelings and emotions locked deep inside of her, burying them, pretending that she was unaffected, untouched. I on the other hand would fall apart and then dive into a whiskey bottle, desperately searching for answers that didn’t reveal themselves no matter how hard I looked.

I had never believed that she would walk away from me, walk away from us. We had argued before, and on occasion our rows had been vicious, personal and wounding, but we had always resolved things. That was the way we were, the way our relationship worked, and it had done for over ten years.

Not this time.

It was as if someone had flicked a switch inside of her. One minute she was red-faced, her chest heaving, her eyes sparking with unrestrained fire, the next she was calm, and scarily so. She had turned and walked away from me, barely stopping as she retrieved her coat and bag from the hook in my hallway. Even as her hand reached out to open the front door I hadn’t truly believed that she was walking out on me for the last time, and so I had told her to go, to run away and sulk, certain that, come tomorrow, we would apologise and life would go on as it had always done.

I had been wrong.

If I had known then what I knew now I would have thrown myself at her feet and begged her for forgiveness. I would have apologised and promised her the world if only she would give me a second chance, but I had been too proud, too stubborn, too stupid. I believed that she needed me as much as I needed her, that we were as essential to each other as food or water or air.

Yet again I had been wrong.

After a weekend of radio silence, I had been so desperate to see her that I had arrived at work early. I had loitered in the communal office, one eye on the door, the other on the time, waiting for her to show up, my anxiety growing with every sweep of the second hand on my watch.

When she had finally appeared, my heart had been in my mouth. She had walked past me, her eyes cast downward, her only acknowledgement of my presence a quietly murmured ‘sir’ as she crossed the room to her workstation. I'd followed her, leaning against the edge of her desk. 

“How are you?”

Her response had been cool, her gaze still fixed downwards. “I’m fine thank you Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you Sir.”

“Okay then, good. If you need me I’ll be in my office.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

I had stalked off to my office, slamming the door shut behind me. I'd collapsed into my chair, scrubbing my face with the heels of my hands. Her reaction had appeared almost calculated, her politeness ensuring that I could find no official fault with her behaviour, but also letting me know that there was no forgiveness.

I had pulled a file towards me and tried to focus on my work, but my mind kept drifting back to her. After an hour, I'd given it up as a bad job. I had been on my feet, ready to go and try anything to make amends when my phone had rung and I had been summoned to see the Assistant Commissioner. Cursing under my breath, I'd headed off to see him, little knowing that twenty minutes later the bottom would have fallen out of my world.

Barbara had resigned, and with immediate effect. I had sat in stunned silence as the AC passed on her thanks for the support I had given her and her career over the years, and her best wishes for my future, not quite believing what I was hearing, sure that my expression must have given away the fact that I was devastated. 

I had held myself together until I had been dismissed, and then I'd rushed to the communal office, hoping that she would still be there. I had been met by an empty desk, the chair pushed fully underneath it, the computer switched off. I'd returned to my office, my hands shaking, my mind clouded by disbelief and my heart broken.


	3. Chapter 3

After ten years of us skirting around the issue, Tommy and I had finally admitted what we had both known for a very long time; we were in love with each other. 

There weren’t any grand declarations, I think he realised that I wasn’t that kind of woman. Instead it had happened organically. We were on our way back from a crime scene on a bitterly cold January morning and he had stopped off to buy us both coffee. I waited for him in the Bristol, hovering close to the passenger side heater vent, trying desperately to defrost my fingers. When he had returned, instead of passing me the takeaway cup, he balanced them both on the dashboard, slipped off his gloves and then cradled my hands in his, rubbing them, warming them, bringing them back to life, all the while looking into my eyes. Our faces had drifted closer together, and then our lips had met.

Kissing him was sublime, far more than I had ever imagined but, as I was to discover later that same day, it was nothing compared to making love with him. It was as if we instinctively knew what the other would like, what would bring the most pleasure, and we spent the entire night worshipping each other.

We kept our relationship secret, not wanting to have to end our working partnership, and so even though we spent virtually every spare moment together, we retained our respective homes.

About six weeks after we first made love I discovered that I was pregnant. It was unexpected considering my age, but a welcome surprise all the same. Tommy had been particularly delighted, but I had made him promise not to say anything until we had had the twelve-week scan. Once we knew that everything was okay, then we could announce our happy news to the world. He had agreed, but on the condition that we would hand in our resignations at the same time. After what had happened to Helen, he didn’t want either of us to take any unnecessary risks. I understood and agreed.

Four weeks after I had shared the happy news with him I had woken in the early hours of the morning, pain ripping through my abdomen, my blood staining the sheets. Although he was distraught, Tommy had called for the ambulance, and then cradled me while we waited, our tears mingling. On our arrival at the hospital they had to virtually prise us apart. As they had wheeled me down the corridor I had cried out for him, screaming his name over and over until they had resorted to sedating me.

Two days later Tommy had collected me from the hospital. His attempts to draw me into a conversation had failed, and so we had driven back to his townhouse in silence. When he brought the Bristol to a standstill I had clambered out and stood waiting for him at the front door. He had held the door open for me and I had pushed past him, climbing the stairs before shutting myself away in the spare room…

…Barbara had refused to speak to me for days. She didn’t eat, hardly drank, and spent most of her time in the spare room. I had taken to sleeping on the Chesterfield in my study, not able to bring myself to stay in the master suite even though my housekeeper had taken care of things with her usual efficiency.

The more Barbara avoided me, the more frustrated I became and the more whiskey I consumed. She wasn’t the only one who had lost a child, and pushing me away wasn’t helping either of us. We needed to talk about what had happened. I didn’t expect things to go back to normal immediately, in fact I doubted they ever would, but I truly believed that, unlike Helen and I, Barbara and I could make it through.

I drained my glass and picked up the bottle to fill it again, cursing when I discovered that it was empty. I rose unsteadily to my feet and stumbled through to the lounge, stopping dead when I found Barbara already in there. She looked at me with disgust.

“You’re drunk!”

“And you’re very observant, de-tec-tive.”

She rolled her eyes and went to leave the room. I put out my arm to stop her.

“We need to talk about this Barbara.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing for us to talk about, especially not when you’re in this condition. I’d like to go back to my room.”

“Running away again? Can’t you think of another party trick?”

She turned to face me, her face twisted with rage. “You know, if this is how you treated Helen then I’m not surprised she left you!”

I sobered almost instantly. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“You know, I thought you were different, I thought you were the one who understood me, the one who would never let me down, but you’re just like Helen. You’re cold, calculating, and just as bitter.”

“And you’re charm personified. I don’t have to listen to this.”

“That’s your raison d'être isn’t it? You never listen to anything anyone ever says, always taking the moral high ground, believing you’re right and everyone else is wrong. I guess I should have trusted my first impression of you, it would have saved me a lot of trouble in the long run.”

Her expression grew cold. She turned her back on me and walked down the hallway, snatching her coat and bag from the hook.

“Off you go, back to your little monastic cell. Let me know when you’ve got over your hissy fit.”

The only response was the slamming of the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

I drove until I was sure I had put enough distance between myself and the Met. Pulling the car to the side of the road, I switched off the engine and then slumped defeatedly over the steering wheel. 

I was dazed, adrift and completely alone. I had thought losing Terry had been bad, but somehow this felt a hundred times worse. Tommy and I had been through so much together, for our relationship to end like this was devastating.

I had no idea how long I’d sat there, too lost in the sea of emotions that were threatening to drown me to register such mundane things as the passing of time, but eventually I realised that I couldn’t stay there forever. Starting the car, I headed for home.

My heart sank as I arrived at my flat and saw the Bristol parked in a visitors’ space. I didn’t have the energy for another argument, it had taken every last ounce of it to be polite to Tommy this morning, but I had been determined that I wouldn’t do anything that he could draw attention to or comment on, ironically enough a lesson that I had learnt from working with him as long as I had. Resigning myself to having to deal with him in some shape, form or guise, I made my way to my front door.

I was surprised to find him sitting at my kitchen table, a glass of whiskey in his hand. With everything that had happened, that fact that I had given him a key had completely escaped my memory.

I chose not to acknowledge him, and moved about the flat as if he wasn’t there, never once looking at him directly.

“Why did you resign Barbara?”

I heard the pain in his voice and fought to remain neutral, another trick I had learnt from him. I crossed the room and set about making myself a coffee.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Barbara. I was drunk, frustrated and angry, not that that’s any excuse, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I was hurting too, but you shut me out. We both lost a child Barbara. I wanted to grieve with you, only you wouldn’t let me in.”

I finished making my drink and left the room. I heard him get up and follow me into the lounge.

“Please don’t ignore me. I want to make things right between us. Tell me what I have to do to put this behind us.”

I still didn’t respond, I couldn’t. I just sat on my couch and sipped my coffee.

“Okay, I understand. I’ll go, but I’m not giving up on us Barbara. Whatever it takes I’m going to make this right again.”

I waited until I heard the front door close, then waited ten minutes more before checking that he had actually left. Reassured that I was on my own, I slipped the security chain on the door and then sank to the floor in tears…

...I took a few moments to pull myself together before I retrieved my jacket and keys and headed off to Barbara’s flat. I spent the drive trying to anticipate her reaction and what my response would be. Her actions told me that I had hurt her badly, and I was sure that she wouldn’t welcome me with open arms, but I had to try.

When I arrived at her flat I was disheartened to see that her car wasn’t there, but it didn’t change my plans. Barbara and I had exchanged keys not long after I had returned to work after Helen’s death, so I let myself in. Helping myself to a finger of whiskey, I sat and waited for her to get home.

The sound of her key in the lock caused my heart to race so I took a sip from the glass to try and calm my nerves. The look on her face when she saw me led me to believe she was likewise affected but she covered it well and I was sure that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed. When she didn’t acknowledge me directly I knew that I would have to make the first move.

“Why did you resign Barbara?”

My voice betrayed just how much her behaviour was hurting me, but she still didn’t respond, instead making herself a coffee as if I wasn’t there.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Barbara. I was drunk, frustrated and angry, not that that’s any excuse, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I was hurting too, but you shut me out. We both lost a child Barbara. I wanted to grieve with you, only you wouldn’t let me in.”

Coffee made, she picked up the mug and left the room. I scrambled after her.

“Please don’t ignore me. I want to make things right between us. Tell me what I have to do to put this behind us.”

Blanking me, she sipped her coffee. I could see her trembling. The last thing I wanted to do was make things worse, so I decided to cut my losses.

“Okay, I understand. I’ll go, but I’m not giving up on us Barbara. Whatever it takes I’m going to make this right again.”

I pulled her front door shut behind me and headed to the Bristol. I had meant what I had said, I wasn’t giving up, but I also knew not to push her too hard. A strategic retreat was the best option; after all, tomorrow was a new day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Apologies for the delay_

I didn’t see Tommy for the next few days, but he made his presence felt. My fridge was filled with my favourite foods, not that I had any appetite, my washing was folded, and a large bouquet of flowers materialised on my bedside table. 

I wasn’t sure whether to be touched or irritated; perhaps a bit of both.

I knew he was trying to make things right between us, but I still couldn’t find it in my heart to speak to him. Everything he had said to me that first night I’d moved back to my flat had been correct, he _had_ hurt me badly, but I _had_ shut him out, and using his relationship with Helen against him as a weapon had been cruel beyond belief. 

I wasn’t proud of how I had behaved, and I knew that Tommy had meant every single world of his apology. The trouble with Tommy and I was that we knew so much about each other, therefore we knew exactly what words to use and exactly which buttons to press to cause the other the maximum pain. Add alcohol and grief into the mix and it was hardly a surprise that we had both lashed out so venomously.

Even though I tried not to, I couldn’t help but think about the baby we had lost. In my more rational moments I understood why Tommy had sought sanctuary with his old friend whiskey, but in others I resented him for not understanding me. It was all such a bloody mess…

…As Barbara wouldn’t speak to me I decided to show her how I felt about her in practical ways. I stocked her fridge with everything she liked to eat, I folded her washing, and left her favourite flowers by her bed. I tried not to do anything too ostentatious, remembering her reaction to me painting her parents’ house. I didn’t want to alienate her any more than I already had.

I missed her so much. The warmth of her arms around me, her laughter and her smile. Now _I_ was sleeping in my spare room, my face buried into the pillow, the trace of her scent briefly fooling my senses that she was there with me, but it was a cold and empty comfort. I had to hope that Barbara would let me back into her life, and soon…

~*~

After two weeks of daily visits I came home to… nothing. I double-checked my entire flat to be sure, but there was no sign of Tommy having visited. I felt… disappointed. I had got used to him surreptitiously taking care of me.

I reached for my phone, wanting to call him, to check that everything was okay, but something stopped me. What if he had decided that he’d had enough of me giving him the silent treatment? Did I want to hear him tell me that he was done with me, with us?

I took a deep breath, hating myself for my cowardice. Snatching up my keys, I hurried out of the door.

I let myself into the townhouse. The Bristol was outside, which reassured me a little, but I wouldn’t relax until I set eyes on Tommy himself.

I moved further into the house, calling his name as I went, my anxiety increasing when I didn’t receive a response.

I checked the garden before moving my search upstairs, forcing myself to go into the master bedroom and the en-suite; they were empty. I crossed the landing to the spare room. Pushing open the door I gasped. Tommy was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel stained with blood wrapped around his left arm.

“Barbara?”

I rushed to his side. “What happened Tommy?”

“I slipped in the shower, my arm went through the screen. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Why didn’t you call for an ambulance?”

“As I said, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“You picked up a medical degree during your time at Oxford too did you?” I grabbed hold of his robe, wrapping it around his shoulders before helping him into a pair of boxers. “I’m taking you to hospital, no arguing…”

…It felt good to have Barbara by my side, even if the circumstances were less than ideal. When I had fallen, my first thought had been to reach out to her, but I hadn’t wanted to impose. The fact that she had missed me enough to come and look for me when I hadn’t shown up at her flat spoke volumes.

“Are you okay Tommy?”

I nodded, “I am, thank you for coming over and for bringing me here.”

“You should have called me.”

“I didn’t want to impose.”

“Good God Tommy, why the hell would you think that you’d be imposing on me?”

“Because of the way I behaved, the way I treated you. I really am sorry Barbara.”

“I missed you. You didn’t turn up today and I missed you. I thought that I’d driven you away, that you’d finally had enough of me and my behaviour, but I had to know for sure.”

I caught hold of her arm with my good hand. “That will never happen. I know I don’t deserve you Barbara, but I do love you and I always will.”

She was just about to respond when the curtain to my cubicle was pulled back and a doctor appeared. I smiled at the look of frustration that crossed her face, taking it as a positive. She matched my smile with one of her own.

“Hold that thought Tommy, we’ll continue this conversation later.”


	6. Chapter 6

Tommy had been whisked away for x-rays to check his wounds for glass. Discovering him sitting on the bed, the blood-stained towel around his arm, it had terrified the life out of me. In that split second, all our disagreements had been forgotten. All that had mattered was making sure he was taken care of. 

I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been sitting there, how long he would have continued sitting there if I hadn’t turned up. I had unanswered question after unanswered question filling my mind. I hoped that when we did eventually continue our conversation that the answers would be forthcoming…

...I closed the front door and turned to face Barbara.

“I’m going to go and put some clothes on, make yourself at home.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “You’re going to need some help with that, unless you’ve got a third arm knocking about somewhere.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“Is the phrase temporary limited mobility ringing any bells?”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“So you keep saying! Repeating a phrase over and over doesn’t suddenly make it fact. Get your arse upstairs and let me help you, then we can sort out dinner. And don’t look so panicked, I know my limitations, I’m not offering to cook. What I can do is order up a mean takeaway, which I will do as soon as I get you sorted. Now, do I need to glare or are you going to cooperate?”

“I’ll cooperate. I’ve been on the receiving end of your glares before…”

…Seeing Barbara finish off the last slice of pizza made me grin, happy to see her eating again. Despite filling her fridge with everything she would normally devour without pausing for breath, my daily trips to her flat had shown that nothing had been touched. I hoped that things would continue to improve.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and then settled back on the couch.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you, I couldn’t manage another thing.”

I settled back myself. “Thank you for coming over today, and for taking care of me. It’s been nice, spending time with you.”

“It has.”

“I can hear a but.”

“What happened today Tommy?”

“I told you, I fell.”

“I know that, I’ve seen the evidence in the en-suite. What I meant was, I got home and you hadn’t visited. How long was it between your fall and me finding you?”

“Honestly? About twenty minutes. Today I wasn’t planning on visiting when you were out, I was going to visit when you were home. I thought it was about time I tried apologising to you again, see if I could convince you that I meant it.”

“Oh, right, okay.”

“I felt like a stalker, waiting until you went out to wherever it was you were going before slipping into your flat. I wanted that to stop, no more playing games.”

“I was spending time with mum. She’s very frail now. I just sit by her bed, holding her hand, wondering where the hell it all went wrong.”

I slid up the couch until I was sitting next to her. “I’m sorry Barbara.”

“Why? None of this is your fault, not really. When I lost our baby, I shut you out. I shouldn’t have. I should have talked to you. I should have understood how painful it was for you because you’d lost a child before.”

“I wasn’t any better, diving headfirst into bottle after bottle, trying to drink away my pain. The things I said to you, they were horrible and cruel, and completely unforgivable.”

“I felt like I’d let you down, that I must have missed something or done something wrong. Did I drink too much before I found out I was expecting? Was there something wrong with me physically? I got so wrapped up in blaming myself that I forgot about you, forgot about your feelings. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

“No Barbara, never think I blame you for what happened. The way I spoke to you, it was completely understandable, you reacting as you did."

"But I lashed out at you too. I was vile, using Helen as a weapon was unforgivable. I admit we both made mistakes, but we can’t go back, can we? I mean, maybe we’re too broken for this to ever work.”

“Perhaps we can’t go back, but there’s nothing stopping us from going forward, and doing it together.”

“How? All we ever seem to do is hurt each other.”

I shifted so that I could put my good arm around her shoulder. “It’s not all we do, we would never have lasted as long as partners if that was the case, and anyway, we can only hurt each other because we care for each other so deeply. Perhaps we need to talk to someone, have grief counselling to help us find our way through this as a couple. What do you think?”

“Do you still want me?”

“I do, I always have. I want to make things right between us Barbara; whatever it takes and however long it takes. What do you say?”

She took a deep breath before speaking. “I want to try.”

I rested my head against hers, “that’s all I can ask. Thank you for listening to me.”

“And thank you for the same. I do love you Tommy.”

“I know, I love you too.”


	7. Chapter 7

Considering it had been nearly midnight when Tommy and I had finally got to bed, I woke early. I rolled onto my side and watched him sleep, content to just lie there until he stirred.

We had talked for hours, going over everything that had happened; apologising and making plans. As the clock in his lounge struck eleven he had asked me to stay with him. As much as we were making progress I couldn’t spend the night at the townhouse; it held too many unpleasant memories. I had thought that Tommy would be upset with me, especially as we had spent a good few hours there having dinner and talking, but I had been wrong. He understood completely, got me to help him pack an overnight bag, and then we’d both come back to the flat.

We hadn’t made love; I wasn’t ready for that and even if he wasn’t injured I didn’t think he was either. Instead we had taken comfort in sharing a bed and falling asleep lying next to each other.

Tommy’s accident had forced both of us to stop avoiding the issue and actually talk to each other. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that our problems were resolved, we had a long way to go before that happened, but it felt right to be back with him. A little spark of hope had started to burn deep within me, and I planned on nurturing it.

Tommy awakened; a warm smile crossing his face as he caught me watching him. “Hello you.”

I reached out and stroked his stubbled cheek. “Hi. Did you sleep okay?”

“I woke a couple of times, and I had to take another lot of painkillers around four, but other than that I slept more last night than I have the last fortnight. What about you?”

“I slept well, thank you, but you should have woken me up to get your painkillers rather than doing battle with the packet yourself.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked so peaceful. I’ve missed watching you sleep.”

I ruffled his hair, “softy!”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“You’re right, there isn’t. D’you fancy a coffee?”

“Not just yet, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Should I be afraid?”

“No, definitely not. Well, I hope not.” 

Tommy shuffled upright, propping himself against the pillows and the headboard. I rested my head in his lap, my fingers slipping under his pajama top, tracing lazy patterns on his stomach, my breath tickling his skin. 

“You don’t sound too sure.”

He absently toyed with a strand of my hair. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be. We agreed to work at our relationship. We need to be honest with each other or else there’s no point even trying. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“It’s about the townhouse and what you said last night.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot or make things difficult for you, I just couldn’t sleep there, not after everything that’s happened.”

“Don’t be, I completely understand. In between hunting for painkillers and trying to get comfortable I did some thinking and you’re right, Eaton Terrace has far too much history for us to make a life together within its walls.”

“Are you sure? It’s your home.”

“No, it isn’t, it’s just bricks and mortar. I hold no sentimentality towards it and anyway, my home is with you. If that’s still what you want.”

“It is.”

“Good. As I told you last night, I will do whatever it takes and I mean it. I want you to feel comfortable, to feel safe, to be able to relax, and neither of us can do that in Belgravia, not now. So, we need to find somewhere where you will feel as much at ease as you do here.”

“I feel like I’m forcing your hand.”

“You’re not. Loving someone means not being selfish. It means taking their thoughts and feelings into consideration. It means listening to the other person, making allowances and compromising. Deborah and I never did that; Helen and I never did that, but that was because we weren’t in love, not really. I now know what love is, and it’s what I’ve found with you. I’ll do everything within my power to make you happy, because that’s what you do for me.”

After everything we had been through, Tommy’s words really hit home. Overcome with emotion, I buried my face against his stomach and sobbed. Whispering words of comfort, he stroked my hair, calming me and lulling me to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

…It had taken us a lot of work to get our relationship back on track. 

Loving each other had never been part of the problem, but the emotional baggage that both of us had never properly dealt with was. Counselling forced us to face things that we had done our best to either keep hidden or ignore in the hopes that they would go away. We came to understand that the only way we could move forward was to stop burying our heads in the sand and talk to each other honestly.

Tommy decided to stop drinking. He didn’t like the person he became while under the influence, and admitted that alcohol didn’t resolve his problems, it only magnified them. I understood his reasoning, and supported him by quitting at the same time.

Six months after agreeing to try again we quietly slipped away to Gibraltar to get married. It was an intimate ceremony, which was exactly what we wanted, and we then spent two further weeks on honeymoon in Spain. 

The townhouse in Eaton Terrace was sold and we found a property in Chester Square. It was another step on the road to strengthening our bond, a new home for our new start. 

…I was standing at the sink doing the washing up when Tommy crept up behind me, his arms slipping round my waist.

“We do have a dishwasher.”

I tugged off my gloves and then leant back against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I know we do, but it’s hardly worth switching it on for two side plates, two knives and two mugs.”

“I still remember you doing the washing up at the Whateley’s house. You surprised me.”

“I still remember your face when I handed you the tea towel, it was as if you expected it to bite you or something!”

“I told you, you surprised me. We were there to investigate their son’s murder and you were doing the dishes. It showed me another facet of your personality, your softer, compassionate side, which you continually did your damnedest to convince everyone you didn’t have.”

“It was something practical that I could do at that exact moment, nothing more.”

Tommy laid his head against mine, “you keep telling yourself that my love, but I for one will never believe it, I know you too well.”

“And yet you still love me, I still can’t get my head around that.”

Tommy turned me so that he could look me in the eyes. “You don’t need to. I love you, that’s all you need to know.”

I stood on tiptoe and kissed him deeply. “I do know, and I love you too. It still scares me to think how close we came to destroying this, destroying us. We’ve been a part of each other’s lives for so long.”

“And we always will be. We saw what we were doing and we stopped it. We realised what we meant to each other and we took the steps needed to make things right. In some ways I think we are stronger now than we ever were.”

“We are, I just wish I hadn’t hurt you so badly along the wa..” 

Tommy kissed me hard, effectively silencing me. He kept kissing me until air became an issue. Breaking apart, he rested his forehead against mine.

“The past is the past Barbara. That’s what the counselling was for, to help us untangle it, deal with it, and then leave it behind where it belongs. No looking back and no regrets.”

“Bu..”

He pressed his finger against my lips. “No regrets Barbara.”

A wicked thought flashed through my mind. I caught hold of his hand, slipping his finger into my mouth and sucking on it. He quirked an eyebrow questioningly at me. I nodded, then yelped as he swept me into his arms and carried me up the stairs to our bedroom. 

He lowered me onto the bed. Kissing and caressing, we moved up the mattress, our clothes disappearing as if by magic. I moved so that he was on top, staring into his eyes as he seated himself deep inside of me.

“You’re right Tommy, no regrets.”


End file.
